Chapter 13 One: Whispering Voices

Stay still, the whispering voice warned him sternly. He wanted to collapse: he had seen eight people butchered before him, and more were yet to come. Under normal circumstances, he would weep at witnessing such, but he did not. The voices still kept whispering to him, but this time in a language he could understand, and less tormenting. They journeyed through the thick forest for a very long time, with only a few people surviving their passage. All the other people were butchered with sticks. Some tried to protect themselves and their families, but they often fell on the edge of defeat. They were gathering enough flesh and blood for the Hadi. Gregory witnessed every murder that happened and blamed himself for letting those people die. He didn't understand why they were killing humans and the animals; he thought with every step he took that he would be the next to be butchered. Perhaps his urge for suicide had turned a new leaf.

The men added up along the way – from four to seven. Every one of them had made a kill, except for the one who held him ferociously, who had made two. They seemed like they protected their meat and blood against each other. Maybe they were going to present it sacredly to the Hadi. They were not scared of wild animals. A snake had bitten one of the men that followed him, and the man courageously got its mouth out of his skin and sucked out the venom. Gregory was disgusted by that but did not show it because if he did, they would say something in the language, and then give him a big bang on the head, followed by a suffocating push on the neck. They did not know anything about sentimentality; they were ruthless. The gang and Gregory had traveled for hours in the thick forest, and they still seemed very energetic. They drank some of the human blood but didn't eat the flesh, for an unknown reason.

The woman who walked towards their direction with a log of wood carried on her head would be the next kill. Her body shook vigorously from side to side as they cut her head off. They did it together. They would cut her body into parts as if they wanted to sell it. Stay Still, the voice warned again, its voice sterner and heard this time. Unlike his powers like before, he could hear people, but they couldn't hear him, they could communicate with the new environment. But he didn't know who, and he could not control the voices from coming in. Okay, okay, Okay, Gregory responded to the voice, while taking deep breaths. One of the men heard Gregory talking to himself and began to harass him. He was speaking a language as he kept landing Gregory heavy beats usin a stick. The other men stopped him before it was too late; they said something in their language to the man. Then, the man was on his knees pleading with them, but they seemed not to listen. They killed him instantly and joined his body with the woman's own. They had killed two men who followed them in less than two hours.

Gregory realised that they were protecting him. But he did not know where they were carrying him to. He hoped for a safe place, far away from cannibalism. He hoped home. After they had lighted the man and the woman's corpses, and eaten it whole, they began their journey again. They asked Gregory to join them severally; he couldn't. Gregory collapsed on their way further. He did not collapse because he saw the sight of blood or witnessed people being butchered, he collapsed because he was tired and hungry. One of the men carried him on his shoulders and began racing forward. He would have collapsed earlier on.

Gregory's eyes opened after several splashes of water. He beheld a monstrous-looking person. He was a monster. His mouth was covered in flesh and blood. The horn that was fitted on his head made him look more severe. His long chin, bulging and dilated eyes, and firm jaw were the features that described him. He shouted something to the people who were around when Gregory woke up. Gregory was surprised that, the horn was the only thing he had on, apart from the small cloth on the private part that every other person wore. He expected a better dressing for a Hadi. His tangled beards looked like they had never been shaved, and so did his hair and the thick brows. Gregory couldn't find any of the men that had brought him. He sat up and examined all the bitter expressions. The weather was very hot; his skin felt like it was going to peel any moment soon. There were no houses, no shelter; the people probably lived outside. Only a few and small shelters were in view.

"Undress him!" Hadi ordered in Kyxhitu. Three of the men responded in agreement, which Gregory understood. But he didn't understand why they approached him ferociously. They held him tightly and began to remove his clothes. He screamed, trying to let himself go. Stay Still. It's nothing, the voice whispered to him again. Gregory was furious at the voice. He had to reply, What? They are getting me naked. The men moved back, along with a surprised exclamation from the people who watched. But the voice kept whispering. You'll pass this phase. You will not die. Gregory was in an utter quandary: the voices kept echoing, and another set of men carried him for proper undressing. The men who began the undressing were killed as ordered by Hadi. Even the people caught screaming when Gregory spoke were killed. Hadi drank their blood and ate their flesh before Gregory.

Gregory was taken to the roadside by the men. Each of them held a stick in their hands. Maybe they waited for him to speak again so that they could strike; he was frightened. They undressed him until his underwear: they figured that was the last clothing he had on. He worried they would find the magical key in his pocket. They took him back to the blood-sucking monster. "Bring him here," Hadi said, pointing at the ground. The men threw him recklessly on the floor. His body was red, his face was something close to tomato red.

"He looks like the 'Winkers'," somebody within the people said.

"They're a curse on the land," another said.

"Something must be happening. Something must be coming," another said.

The people talked among each other, which added together to form a loud noise. Gregory didn't understand what was going on, but he knew that he would not survive a night in the harsh weather. Hadi ordered them to stop after looking at Gregory over and over again. He called one of his men and said something in a low tone. Keep Calm. Do not panic.

"Should I kill him, or leave the decision to Kadi?" Hadi asked.

"I suggest you leave the decision until Kadi arrives, Hadi. He's only gone for a few days," the man replied.

"Agda! Seize him! Kill him! Get me his head! I will drink his blood," Hadi said while pointing at the man who advised him. Agda was a term that referred to 'soldiers' or 'comrades' in English. "I do what I want to do. The woman-hearted Kadi doesn't get to decide what I do," he said as he gave final commands to the men who held his adviser.

He ordered another group of men to carry Gregory to the Simga tree, where people were hanged. Don't worry. You will not die. You will live. Gregory was sick of hearing their voices. He was ready to give death positive answers when he called. Everything was going against him. The stakes were high, yet some voice was telling him that he was not going to die. The Simga tree was a large tree with brown leaves and a very smooth bark. It had a long branch that crossed firmly horizontally to the neighbouring trees. He saw two dangling bodies, their skin like his; he didn't see the small one – probably a child's body – dangling above. Be Quiet. Don't shake. Don't disagree. At this point, Gregory was dumbfounded. He knew that he was the next in line for hanging. He could not answer the voice this time. Cold tears ran their way to his cervical region.

The men held him tightly, and the people that followed them were shouting something like, 'Tahogajaki'. Gregory was carried up to the tree, and placed in a position whereby, his head was used to support the rest of his body. The people believed that if they killed the foreigners by hanging, their spirits would not come back to torment them. The voices were evil; they worked with the people of the land to dissuade him from fleeing.

After they had tied the rope against Gregory's head, his breath seized, and he dangled lifelessly.